Confessions of a Remalnan Queen
by leenza
Summary: Ramblings of a crazy queen...


Disclaimer- nothing's mine

Summary: Musings of Meliara.

Confessions of a Remalnan Queen

I'd like to tell you that my life went on all happily ever after once the wedding was over. And maybe, if I could disregard the immoral consequences of altering the facts of history, I would.

The truth is, I don't think I'll ever catch up on my sleep until the morning comes that I won't wake up again. There are dark circles under my eyes, circles that are easily concealed by face paint and circles that identically match the ones under Vidanric's eyes. If managing Tlanth ran me ragged, multiply that by all the other regions of Remalna now under my control and maybe you can see where it is I might have gone wrong.

The truth is, I never wanted to be Queen. It wasn't in my plans, my hopes, or my dreams. I never wanted to marry a handsome prince, or Marquis in my case, and reign gloriously over the country. I simply wanted to be left alone, to live out my life at Tlanth, the only home I had ever known.

The truth is, I miss looking out my window when the stars are out and hearing the music of the Hill Folk float down to my ears. I miss saddling up my horse and hightailing it into the forest for a day, or two, or three, or however long I just needed to get away. There is no getting away in Athanarel.

The truth is, I miss my brother. And Nee, too, of course, who became my best friend. And Oria, my former best friend who was torn apart from me by lack of a title. I haven't been out to Tlanth since I first came to Athanarel. And I haven't seen Bran or Nee since they came with their baby.

The truth is, things hurt. Everything hurts. My heart hurts.

The truth is, I cried tonight. The first time I've cried since the Coronation. The first time I've let weakness take me over. Big, gulping sobs shook my entire body, liquid saline soaking my pillow. Afterwards, I felt a little better, lying awake and alone in that huge bed as I stared out the open window, my eyes finding the full moon shining brightly overhead. A breeze flittered by me and I shivered as the door creaked open, hopelessly loud in the intended silence of the room.

My breathing hadn't yet calmed and I sensed Vidanric pause in his turning down of the sheets on his side, felt his eyes on me. That was enough to make me want to cry again, but I held on for dear life. My unhappiness could be Vidanric's undoing, I knew, after all these months of little sleep and intense pressure on the monarchy.

"Mel?" he whispers, afraid to wake me up in case the sleep he thinks I'm feigning is actually real. I focus on my breathing.

"Meliara," he says, louder this time, the firmness in his voice shocking my ears. "I know you're awake. No sounds of snoring."

Sputtering, I sit up. "I do _not-_" And I meet his twinkling gaze and sigh loudly. Oh.

"I can't sleep without you here," I admit, letting out my best kept secret for the past few months. With his late nights, I lie awake, waiting for him to return. Some days he went without sleep and so I did, too.

The closer he gets, the more defined his features become and I force a smile, though it trembles. There must be something in my gaze, or on my face, because he reaches out, brushing at my cheeks with his thumbs. "You've been crying," he says, bewilderment in his voice.

"No," I say softly, unwilling to allow him to carry both of our burdens.

We stare at each other for a long moment and then he pulls me to him, wrapping me up in a big, strong embrace. I hold on to him tightly, burying my face in his chest. I inhale deeply, breathing in his unique scent: of cinnamon and spices, of ink and freshly printed paper, of horses and grass, and of love, glorious, glorious love. There is love in every fiber of his being that is directed at me.

"I don't want you to be unhappy," he says just as softly.

"I'm not," I lie, reaching up with one hand to chew on a thumbnail nervously. He pulls my hand away; he's been chiding me about that habit lately.

"Both of us need a vacation," he tells me. I privately agree, but choose to remain silent. "Why don't we head to Tlanth once the Santorian Ambassador departs? We can visit Bran and Nee, and Russav and Tamara can come along."

I pull back to look up into his face, the gentle, kind face I adore so much. "Danric," I say, prompting a raised eyebrow from him. "I love you so much."

A gentle smile pulls at the corners of his lips. As he leans towards me, a beam of moonlight dances across his beautiful, beautiful features, endearing him to me more than ever. His voice is husky as he repeats the words back to me in a whisper and then our lips meet for the first time in days, reminding of exactly how I fit into Athanarel.

The truth is, I belong here. I belong with him; I belong in his arms. And I belong on that throne, because I was destined to overcome my shortcomings to do the right thing.

The truth is, I did live happily ever after.

**Fin.**

Mleh, cheesy. I didn't mean for it to get like that. I intended it to be angsty, but Mel and Danric have minds of their own. Tell me what you think!

love, linza


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